


teacher's pet

by sobraniee



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Professor!Seb, Sexual Tension, Student!Charles, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:34:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29982240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sobraniee/pseuds/sobraniee
Summary: Mr Vettel hummed as he skimmed over the notes, nodding thoughtfully. Charles felt an odd sense of pride as he watched, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. It was then when Charles noticed the haughty glimmering ring on Mr Vettel’s hand.Married.Of course, he was. Charles couldn’t explain why he felt a stab of disappointment seep through him.or: Professor Vettel finds more than just intelligence behind the eyes of his newest thesis student, Charles.
Relationships: Charles Leclerc & Sebastian Vettel, Charles Leclerc/Sebastian Vettel
Comments: 8
Kudos: 59





	teacher's pet

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [this](https://theothermercedesdriver.tumblr.com/post/643937590722150400/i-knew-this-wouldnt-last-but-fuck-you-dont-you) fancam by @[anthonyjanthony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anthonyjanthony/pseuds/anthonyjanthony)/ @[theothermercedesdriver](https://theothermercedesdriver.tumblr.com/) (on tumblr)  
> \- i couldn't have done this without your help. 
> 
> (other additional tags will be added later. I don't want to spoil the story)

**_Charles_ **

5 minutes, they said. 5 minutes before the door would open, 5 minutes until Charles would catch his first glimpse of the infamous Professor Vettel. _ It had been fifteen so far. _ Even though Charles was well prepared for his meeting, he couldn’t stop bouncing his leg. The more he spiraled, the faster it moved. As if the universe could sense his distress, Charles’ phone vibrated in his hands. A quick look and Charles’ nervousness dissipated for a brief moment. Charles nibbled on his lower lip as he quickly clicked on the notification, trying to resist the urge to smile down on his phone at a restock-message. It was the intricate cut of the fabric, the little details around the neckline and of course the colour that made Charles want- or rather,  _ need- _ that specific piece. He only permitted the finest fabrics to touch his skin, after all. So he didn’t hesitate as he bought the provocative bubblegum two-piece lingerie set.  _ This’ll look good on camera this weekend. A nice treat for my 150 subscribers.  _

The sound of approaching footsteps behind the closed door made Charles snap out of his momentary repose and stuff his phone back into his backpack. Charles was just about to straighten when the door opened, and his brain short-circuited for a moment. When his peers told him that Professor Sebastian Vettel was the best that his university could offer, he thought they meant his knowledge. Nobody told him that he was also ridiculously good-looking. And  _ young.  _ Charles guessed that the man in front of him couldn’t be a day over thirty. 

“Mr Leclerc?” Mr Vettel rose a brow. Charles was all about first impressions, and he already scolded himself for messing up this one. 

“Yes,” Charles cleared his throat, his voice too high. “I’m here for my thesis supervision.” 

“Come on in,” Mr Vettel stepped to the side, holding the door open for Charles. “Take a seat.” 

Charles did as he was told, dropping his backpack to his side as he let his eyes roam around the professor’s office. Pictures of mountains, probably the alps, and lots of green and brown, dotted the room. Charles felt like he was in the office of a biology lecturer, not the one of an English literature professor. It made him feel oddly calm. 

“Sorry for the wait,” Mr Vettel said as he closed the door and took a seat in front of Charles. 

Charles was still not done appreciating the gorgeous man in front of him. He had to be careful if he didn’t want to get caught staring. 

“So,” the professor folded his hands on the table, ready to listen. “Thesis supervision, right?”

“Uh, yes.” Charles wanted to slap himself, this wasn’t at all how he practiced this. “I want to write my bachelor's thesis on Keats’ Odes and maybe connect them with some contemporary criticism approaches.” 

The professor nodded, the smile on his lips didn’t help Charles’ raging thoughts at all. 

“Do you have anything concrete prepared already?” 

“Yes!” Charles blurted out, already reaching for his freshly printed out notes and handing them over. “I mean, they are not perfect, but they sum up my approach ideas and summaries of the readings very well.” Charles shrugged. 

Mr Vettel hummed as he skimmed over the notes, nodding thoughtfully. Charles felt an odd sense of pride as he watched, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. It was then when Charles noticed the haughty glimmering ring on Mr Vettel’s hand.  _ Married. _ Of course he was. Charles couldn’t explain why he felt a stab of disappointment seep through him. 

_ He’s going to be your supervisor. Stop thinking about him like that.  _

But against his better judgement, Charles couldn’t stop himself watching as Mr Vettel rose said hand to his chin, caressing his beard pensively. 

“Interesting,” Mr Vettel didn’t raise his gaze yet, finishing the last paragraph. 

“Very well, Mr Leclerc,” he placed the notes on his desk, giving Charles a nod of confirmation. “Not that you need it, but you have my approval. This is some remarkable work.” 

“Thank you, Sir.” Charles couldn’t help himself and blush. He didn’t know if it was from the praise or the way the word “Sir” sounded from his lips. 

Mr Vettel roamed over the notes again, pen in his hand and marking certain paragraphs. 

“These parts are particularly interesting,” he explained. “I want you to focus on them when you write your first proper draft.”

“Yes Sir.” 

The moment was brief, but Charles noticed how Mr Vettel bit his lip at the honorific.  _ Interesting indeed.  _

This time it was Mr Vettel's time to clear his throat. 

“Do you need the department guideline on how to write the thesis?” 

Charles shook his head, he was well prepared after all. “No  _ Sir _ , I already have it printed out.” 

“Of course you have,” Mr Vettel’s smile was warm and it radiated towards Charles. “I want you to prepare a rough first outline and a bibliography for next week,” Charles nodded as he scribbled the tasks down in his notebook. “Your readings are already sufficient enough, but I want you to do some proper research on those contemporary critics.” 

“Will do, Mr Vettel.” 

“If you need any help don’t hesitate to write me an e-mail,” the professor looked at him earnestly. “And I mean that.” 

“I will.” Charles gulped, the air suddenly feeling hotter around him. “Thank you again, Professor.” 

“Does next week, same time, work for you Mr Leclerc?” 

“Charles is fine, Sir.” Mr Leclerc was reserved for someone else, and Charles didn’t like to be constantly reminded of that. “And yes. Next Friday, same time works perfectly.”

“Perfect. Can’t wait to read what you’ll write,  _ Charles _ ,” Mr Vettel gave him another reassuring smile and Charles' knees felt a bit like jelly when he stood up from his chair. 

He was about to extend out his hand for a handshake but was interrupted by the ringing of his phone. Charles made the mistake of not turning it off before entering the meeting and groaned when he saw Mr Vettel’s amused smile. But just as fast as he saw the smile, it was gone again. The professor gave him an unreadable look. Charles decided it must have been one of disappointment. 

“I’m sorry, Sir,” he already reached into his pocket, muting the call, but the look didn’t change. “I’ll make sure it’s on mute next time, I promise.” Charles didn’t know why he was rambling, a phone call at the end of a meeting isn’t the end of the world, but judging from the professor’s reaction it might as well be. 

“It’s fine,” Mr Vettel croaked, suddenly rummaging through some folders on his desk. “Close the door on your way out, please.”

Charles blinked, his brows furrowed together in confusion as he put his backpack on and moved towards the door. Before closing it behind him he turned around, trying to smile at Mr. Vettel one last time. “See you next Friday, Professor.”    
  


The quick smile didn’t reach Mr Vettel’s eyes as he gave Charles a small wave. 

–

**_Sebastian_ **

It was a regular Friday afternoon for Sebastian. Two literature classes to teach, two hours of consultation and an hour drive back home. In a way, he enjoyed the soothing monotony of it all, and by the end of the day, he found himself seated at his desk, idling through the afternoon, ready to call in his next student. Sebastian took pride in knowing that he had a good reputation under his students. As a result, he held them all to a rather high standard. 

Finishing his last tasks, Sebastian took one last glance at his calendar to check the name of his next student. Charles Leclerc, an English Literature and Linguistics major. 

Sebastian opened his office door and propped it against the wall, before turning to find himself face to face with a pair of soft hazel eyes. A fleeting image crossed his mind before he was able to speak.  _ Those eyes.  _ He could see them, burning into his mind. Bright, mesmerizing, and unrecognizable in a way that left him infuriated. 

“Mr Leclerc?” Sebastian spoke first. 

“Yes, I’m here for my thesis supervision.” 

He found himself perplexed by the fiery look in Charles’ eyes that didn’t match his timid voice. 

“Come on in,” Sebastian gestured to one of the seats in front of his desk. “Take a seat.”

Sebastian closed the door behind him and took the opportunity to sort his thoughts, the strange sense of déjà-vu washing over him. He had to focus, this meeting could shape Charles’ future. 

“Sorry for the wait,” Sebastian took a seat in front of Charles, trying to get back into the zone. 

“So, thesis supervision, right?” 

As if on cue, Charles’ eyes began to glimmer, a smile forming on the student's lips.  _ His lips.  _

“Uh yes,” Charles fumbled with his notes in his hand. Sebastian didn’t understand why he found the squirming endearing and not annoying. “I want to write my bachelor's thesis on Keats’ Odes and maybe connect them with some contemporary criticism approaches.” 

_ Pretty  _ **_and_ ** _ smart.  _

Sebastian couldn’t hold back an approving smile. He would deal with those thoughts later.

_ Let’s see if your passion is genuine. _

“Do you have anything concrete prepared already?” 

“Yes!” Charles almost didn’t let him finish his sentence and Sebastian had to hold back a laugh. “I mean, they are not perfect, but they sum up my approach ideas and summaries of the readings very well.” 

His student handed him the notes in his hand. Freshly printed, and at first glance, they looked properly formatted. Sebastian was somewhat impressed- Charles’ work was far beyond that of his other bachelor students. 

Sebastian leaned back in his chair, skimming over Charles’ notes. With each sentence, he read he grew more and more fascinated with the man sitting in front of him. Charles was a mystery to him. His first impression of a nervous and fidgety student clouding his mind as he read through the well-crafted summary. 

“Interesting,” he mumbled, more to himself than to Charles.  _ Interesting is an understatement. _

“Very well, Mr Leclerc.” He carefully placed the notes on his desk. “Not that you need it, but you have my approval. This is some remarkable work.” 

He couldn’t explain why, but the flush that filled Charles’ cheeks at the praise came as no surprise. It was as if he knew, knew to expect the way he fidgeted against the table and lowered his eyes from Seb’s gaze. He shuddered and cleared his throat, attempting to escape the thought.  _ Not right now. _

“Thank you, Sir.” 

Sebastian focused on the notes in front of him, scared that if he dwelled on the honorifics any longer, he’d lose himself. 

“These parts are particularly interesting,” Sebastian scribbled on the paper. “I want you to focus on them when you write your first proper draft.”  _ Stay focused.  _

“Yes  _ Sir _ .” 

_ Motherfucker.  _

Sebastian doesn’t normally allow students to call him by his first name, but if he wants to survive this consultation he might make an exception. He really needed to clear his thoughts after this session. 

“Do you need the department guideline on how to write the thesis?” Sebastian cleared his throat, his voice sounding too raspy. 

“No Sir, I already have it printed out.”

Charles was infuriating. 

“Of course you have,” Sebastian couldn’t keep the comment to himself, and it had yet again the same desired effect on Charles. He was shifting in his seat. 

“I want you to prepare a rough first outline and a bibliography for next week,” The younger nodded, quickly taking down notes whilst Seb spoke. “Your readings are already sufficient enough, but I want you to do some proper research on those contemporary critics.” 

“Will do, Mr Vettel.” 

The urge to praise him again suddenly overcame Sebastian, the grip on his pen tightening. 

Sebastian took a deep breath.  _ Supervisor. Bachelor’s thesis. Student. _

“If you need any help don’t hesitate to write me an e-mail,” Sebastian made sure to hold Charles’ gaze, mesmerised by the concentrated and vibrant look in his eyes. “And I mean that.” 

It cost Seb every bit of willpower to not fixate on Charles’ neck as he visibly gulped in front of him. 

“Thank you again, Professor.” 

“Does next week, same time, work for you Mr Leclerc?” 

Charles frowned ever so slightly, making Sebastian question his choice of words immediately. 

“Charles is fine, Sir.” Sebastian better get used to the sound of that.  _ Tease. _ “And yes. Next Friday, same time works perfectly.”

“Perfect. Can’t wait to read what you’ll write,  _ Charles _ ,” Sebastian answered, giving him his best smile.  _ Two can play this game.  _

Sebastian immediately regretted it when he watched Charles licking his lips as they both stood up.  _ This is going to be an interesting journey.  _ Sebastian was intrigued by Charles. It was the focused yet hungry look in his eyes he hadn’t seen before. The secrets that would be in his mind. Seb wanted nothing more than to find them.

Charles extended his hand for a final handshake as a loud ringing sound surprised them both. 

Seb almost laughed, ready to tease him for making the rookie mistake of not muting his phone, but Charles beat him to it with a frustrated groan. 

Sebastian froze. 

In an instant, the mental image,  _ the eyes, the lips, the voice _ \- they all hit him at once. Charles’ rambling sounded muffled in his ears. He must’ve answered something because the younger picked up his backpack and walked towards the door. 

Sebastian didn’t feel like he had any control over his body anymore as his eyes roamed over Charles’ body as he stood in front of his door.  _ That body. _ Of course, he didn’t notice with all the clothing on. 

“See you next Friday, Professor.” Charles was almost out as he turned around one last time to give him a smile. Sebastian couldn’t even look at him. How could he ever look at him again? Charles Leclerc. His student.  _ My student.  _

_ Le Petit Prince. _

The boy made of lace and rhinestones and broken whines. 

The boy with a body made for conquering worlds. 

The boy Seb found behind his eyes every night as he got himself off beside his sleeping wife. 

**Author's Note:**

>  _Is the golden string a wire too?_  
>  _Can we find the edge of red and blue_  
>  _Kindred peers, I’ve got too few_  
>  _So again and again, I come to you_  
>    
> _Shades of purple, seek to find_  
>  _Each glimpse into your star-laid mind_  
>  _Luck and fate found intertwined_  
>  _On crossed paths we’ve long designed_
> 
> \- by ant, @[theothermercedesdriver](https://theothermercedesdriver.tumblr.com/)


End file.
